Lipstick
Look ma, no hands.
Here's to cleverly arranging the sleeping baby, myself and computer so that I can have both hands to type. So I can actually blog or return e-mails. Why not put the baby down? Because this is that delicate slumber, where she has fallen asleep on me, and the moment she is laid down on some cold flat surface, the eyes pop open. And I mean pop! And because I prefer sleeping to fussing.
So, I come to understand that several people now read my blog. People I never expected to read my blog, read my blog. I hope I'm not boring any of you. Of course, if I am, I'll go back to my crew of three readers. I have a feeling that no matter what I type, they'll read it. Most of you are here for my candid descriptions of adventures with the child. I'll try to keep them coming. I've got one that's currently ripe for the blogging. Just wait til I get the pictures downloaded, because you need to see the pictures.
This brings me to the e-mail I received from my Aunt Diana. She stated that, "Parenting is the hardest, most fascinating, most exhausting, most rewarding thing you’ll ever do. Totally worth it – if you survive!" I have to agree even though sleep deprived. This brings me to the title of the post. And hoping I survive. Now I know some of you are thinking, "What in the the world is a first-time mom of an infant doing writing about lipstick. What is Stephanie doing writing about lipstick at any point in time, furthermore." And before you got to the previous sentence you were thinking, "she must have mommy-brain because this post is certainly not about lipstick." I have to remind you, one, I do laundry in my free time. Two, mommies who have recently birthed a large parasite find their body does not instantly bounce back and may wear lipstick in public settings to draw attention away from one's midsection. Now, back to the mommy brain. I washed a tube of lipstick. Ha! And I thought I was doing good, getting laundry done, not drying the things you're not supposed to dry (diaper covers, nursing bras, 100% cotton shirts that currently fit - amen) when I open the washer and there it was - lipstick. I don't even remember wearing it, much less toting it around in a pocket. Amazingly, the lipstick was okay and so were the clothes. I should be able to wear all those things again. This is where I toot the horn for Kenmore's front loaders. And I also admit that when first preggo I washed a headlamp. Also turned out okay.
I also would like to thank Aunt Diana for warning me about my future parenting woes. "now we only have to worry about boys, homework, boys, mean girlfriends, boys, and text messaging bills"
That poop isn't smelling so bad anymore. Of course, I haven't gotten any on me recently. (Now that I've typed that, she will remedy the situation soon) Which leads to my favorite thing: laundry.